


Rainy Days

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Rain, Romance, Spanking, rainstorm, tradition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stormy skies, old-world tradition, and budding romance. [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the storm came in, I was sitting at the window in Brygitta's tiny bedroom, watching the dark grey clouds flashing with bits of lightning. We had been studying math, but I was getting sick of it and stared out the window instead. I hated math, but she loved it and always helped me with my homework.

"You should go home," she said from behind me.

I turned. "I'm sorry. I'll get back to work."

"No, I mean, it's about to rain."

I was confused. What did rain have to do with me going home? From elsewhere in the house, came the sudden but unmistakable sounds of a spanking. She had two little sisters, one in first grade and one in second, babies compared to us middle schoolers. I'd seen her sisters getting spanked before, it was a fairly common event, but she suddenly looked frantic.

"You have to go now," she said.

But to leave, I'd have to go down the narrow stairs and through the living room, where the spanking was almost certainly taking place. "I'd rather not walk in on them getting spanked..." I started, but she shook her head.

"You don't understand—"

She was interrupted by a crack of thunder. I jumped and she grabbed ahold of me. For several moments we just held each other. Then the sound of crying little girls and footsteps on the staircase alerted us to the fact that we were about to be joined in the tiny attic bedroom over the shoe shop her parents owned.

Her mother opened the door and shooed the two crying little sisters into the room where they went immediately to bed, crying and rubbing their bottoms. I watched them, both amused at their plight and sorry for them. Her aunt came in behind them, making the tiny room crowded. They spoke to Brygitta in some language I didn't understand, neither of them speaking very good English. I think it was from Eastern Europe.

"I'm sorry," Brygitta said to me just before her aunt sat on the only stool in the room and bent Brygitta over her lap. I watched, stunned, thinking my friend was far too old for a spanking. Then her dress was flipped up and her panties pulled down and her aunt spanked her, quick and hard. I stared at my best friend's bottom as it was quickly turned red.

But that was nothing compared to my shock when her mother grabbed me by the wrist and knelt. She pulled me over her bent knee and pulled up my skirt, then slid down my panties, all while I just couldn't believe what was happening. Then it was my bare bottom getting spanked quickly and firmly. I gasped with the pain of it.

Still unbelieving, I looked over my shoulder at Brygitta's mother. She was focused with grim determination on making my butt red. I looked at the little sisters, staring at Brygitta and me with wide, teary eyes. Then I looked at Brygitta and realized that her nose was only an inch from mine. She was staring at me, crying openly.

I cried too.

With my butt on fire and my head confused, I watched Brygitta's mom and aunt scold us then point at the top bunk. Brygitta climbed into bed.

"Come on," she whispered urgently.

"What?" I thought she couldn't be serious, I thought none of this could have just happened, but her mother slapped my bottom hard, and I scurried up into the bed with her.

Once the door was closed, I got an explanation.

"My parents... they're not really... with the times." Brygitta whispered. "There's an old superstition of great-grandma's that kids get wild in a storm, that they'll want to go out in it and then they'll get sick or possessed or something stupid. So... so that's why we always get spanked and sent to bed when a storm comes."

"Oh," I whispered. I'd been spanked for many things: back talk, bad attitude, poor grades, but never just because a storm came in. "So, your mom was trying to save me from possession? That's awfully nice of her."

Byrgitta gave me a funny look and I snickered though my tears.

We both lay on our tummies on her narrow bunk, our bare bottoms still red and throbbing. I looked over my shoulder at my scarlet bottom and winced. I rubbed it gently.

"Your mom spanks awfully hard."

Brygitta nodded and put a hand to her own scarlet backside. "Mine's still warm. Feel."

Without thinking, I put my hand on her bare bottom. We both blushed. She was right. It was warm.

"Mine too," I whispered.

As I'd hoped, she put her hand on my bare bottom.

Outside, the storm continued, soaking the grey city, washing from it the stink of smoke that clung to its walls and sidewalks.

Brygitta shifted uncomfortably. "Do you mind if I turn on my side? It's a bit crowded up here."

I shook my head. She pulled up her panties and pulled down her skirt and shifted onto her side so that her spanked bottom was pointing toward me. Instinctively, I shifted so that I too was on my side. I pulled up my panties though it stung my bottom to do so. Then she snuggled up against me. I fancied I could feel the warmth of her spanked backside though the cloth, and my groin stirred.

Brygitta giggled, and we snuggled together through the storm.


	2. Chapter 2

When we walked home from school the next day, or perhaps the day after, another storm was rolling in. We were going to her house after school to study for the big vocabulary test the next day.

"We better cancel," Brygitta said. "It looks like it's going to rain." She blushed.

"Nah, we really need to study."

"You know why we can't," Brygitta said. "You know my mom will..."

I grinned at her. "Well, maybe that's not so bad."

She looked at me like I was crazy. Perhaps I was. "You want my mom to spank you?"

"No." My butt tingled painfully at the thought. "But last time you let me..."

"Oh. Yeah." She was still blushing, but she grinned.

My hope was, if last time she would let me touch her bare bottom and then we snuggled through the storm, perhaps this time we could do a little more. Not too much more, but a little.

"I'll take a spanking anytime if I get to cuddle with you afterward."

But when we got to her place, we found that both her aunt and mother were out on an errand, leaving only her grandmother in the house since her father was at work. As soon as we came in, her grandmother began speaking rapidly. Brygitta responded in the same language, sounding regretful, but her grandmother reached out and spanked her thigh sharply, then gestured upstairs.

Brygitta looked at me, tears in her eyes, but her expression oddly... anticipatory.

"Is that it?" I asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

She shook her head. "Grandma is too weak to give out four spankings. But we still have to be spanked and sent to bed."

"So..." I was confused.

She took my hand and let me upstairs. Brygitta and her family lived in the apartment above the shoe shop they owned. The second floor of the building was the kitchen and living room. The third floor was the two bedrooms shared by her parents and her aunt and grandmother. The tiny attic above the third floor was Brygitta's room which she shared with her little sisters and a bunk bed.

It was there we found little Alenka and Domka. They looked at us with big sad eyes.

"So," Brygitta said, "We'll have to spank the girls and then..." she blushed. "Then we'll have to go back down and she'll spank us together. Grandma says if we don't, we'll all get double later."

"Wait, what?"

Brygitta was already sitting on the edge of the bed, coaxing Alenka across her lap. I still didn't know what to do. I watched Alenka, already crying, crawl over Brygitta's lap. Domka had climbed out of bed and was looking at me with her large, dark eyes.

"Are you going to spank me now, Jenny?"

"Gosh," I said, not having anything better. So I sat on the short stool and Domka clambered over my lap.

I looked at Brygitta, who had obviously done this before. She pulled Alenak's skirt up to reveal white panties, then she pulled the panties down. I looked down at Domka's little bottom, not sure I should do the same.

"Go ahead," Brygitta said.

So I likewise bared Domka's bottom. I'd received my fair share of bottom barings, but I'd never done it myself.

"On three?" Brygitta asked, steeling herself.

I nodded. "On three."

"One... Two... Three..."

Domka squealed loudly as I spanked her. I jumped and nearly dumped her to the floor. It had just been one smack, but she cried and bucked like I was taking the belt to her. Brygitta was still spanking Alenka, so I put my hand on Domka's waist to keep her on my lap and continued. I tried to go easy on the kid, but a spanking is a spanking, and her bottom was soon hot and red under my hand. When Brygitta stopped spanking Alenka, I stopped spanking Domka.

We tucked the girls into bed just as it began raining, the drumming on the room a pleasant sound. Though they were still crying as we left the room, they seemed comfortable and sleepy.

Back down in the main room, just above the shoe shop, Grandma was ready with a wooden spoon. She gave an order. Brygitta bit her lip nervously.

"She told us to bare our... uh... bottoms and bend over the couch arm."

Grandma slapped the spoon against her hand impatiently. Brygitta flipped up her skirt in back to tug down her panties. She was in position before I was, but I joined her quickly, following her lead, reaching under my skirt to pull my panties down in back.

I tried to focus on the fact that my bare hip was touching Brygitta's bare hip, that I could feel her breathing heavily next to me, that she grabbed my hand and held on tight. I tried not to let my anxiety about a second bare bottom spanking in as many days was about to turn my butt bright red make me cry prematurely.

Brygitta got it first. The spoon smacked into her bottom with a sharp sound, a sound different than a hand against a bottom. It came again and again and again, and next to me, Brygitta cried and wiggled and I could feel myself growing warm and damp. I was glad that I'd only pulled my panties down in back.

The odd sort of pleasure of hearing Brygitta getting spanked was suddenly dispelled when it was my turn. Each smack of that spoon on my unprotected backside stung like a fire. Brygitta's grandma was quick and relentless, covering my naked bottom with fiery ovals quicker than I would have thought possible. When it stopped, the relief was immense and I was ready to hop up, but suddenly Brygitta squeezed my hand hard as her grandma started in on her again. I groaned and slumped against the couch arm, certain that I was to receive a second dose shortly. When Brygitta's second ended, I tensed and soon it was my turn to have my already battered backside spanked again.

After this second round, our spanking was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Brygitta's mom. I looked up through teary eyes to see the stern matriarch examining us with approval. She spoke with her mother quickly, nodding a lot. Then she marched right over to us, put her hand on my back and spanked me quick and hard, five times. I shouted and cried as she leaned over me to deliver the same to Brygitta. Then she said something sternly and Brygitta hopped up, grabbed my hand and led me stumbling up the stairs.

Once we had climbed up into Brygitta's bunk, her little sisters already sound asleep thanks to hot, sore bottoms and steadily pounding rain, Brygitta lay on her tummy, flipped up her skirt and rubbed like mad. I, however, lay propped on my side so that I could watch her. My skirt had fallen back down on the mad dash upstairs and it brushed against my fiery bottom in a way that was both painful and oddly pleasant. My panties, on the other hand, were now bunched around my thighs. I blinked away tears as I watched her.

The wind picked up and the room suddenly turned chilly. Brygitta reached to the foot of the bunk and pulled a thick quilt over us both as she turned onto her side. Surreptitiously as I could, I pulled my skirt up so that her hot, bare bottom tucked right up against my warm dampness. I shivered at the contact.

We huddled under the quilt, and I put my hand casually on her bare hip, my fingers tracing the waist of her panties which were now at her thighs just as mine were.

"We're supposed to be studying," Brygitta whispered breathily under the howling, pounding, thundering storm.

"Okay," I said, my hand resting lightly on her thigh. "Flammable."

"Flammable, uh, easily set on fire."

"Nocturnal."

"Um..." Brygitta hesitated long enough I knew she didn't know. I patted her bottom gently. Nothing like a spanking, but just enough to make her wiggle against me, taking us ever closer to that line we had so thoroughly blurred already.

"It means active at night," I said.

"Oh. Right."

"How about... infallible?"

In that way I helped her study for the vocab test tomorrow, swatting her gently when she got it wrong, until we both fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It rained all day the next day. As we walked home from school, both having aced our vocab tests, both under my umbrella, I asked Brygitta if I could come over.

"You're really liking this, aren't you?"

I nodded. I had thought about it last night after I'd woken from the nap and gone home. I didn't like to be spanked, but I liked the feeling afterwards, the warm bottom and hypnotic throbbing and the cuddling. And I had liked spanking little Domka. Being the one in charge, the one with the power, was exhilarating.

She blushed and grinned. "Okay."

Her mother and father were both working when we got to her place, but her aunt was waiting for us upstairs. She looked at us and sighed when we came in. Alenka and Domka were already headed up the stairs, rubbing their bottoms and crying.

Her aunt said something in a resigned tone and Brygitta responded. Then she nudged me. "She's asking if we'll promise not to go outside. She says she's had a tiring day, and she's sick of giving spankings."

"Oh," I said, and it was obvious I was disappointed.

"If you really want," Brygitta said, "I'll spank you."

It was obvious she'd meant it as a joke, but I perked up. "Really?"

"Um..." Brygitta spoke to her aunt who suddenly smiled just a little and responded. "She says that's fine, but..." she blushed. "But you have to spank me too and we have to do it here, in front of her."

I went first. Brygitta sat on the couch and I lay down over her lap, my head resting on a couch pillow. I couldn't help but grin as she took hold of the hem of my dress and pulled it up over my bottom. I couldn't help but shiver as she took hold of the hem of my panties and pulled them down over my bottom to my knees. I couldn't help the warm dampness that stirred deep within as she rested her hand on my bottom.

Turns out, Brygitta was a competent spanker. I squeaked and kicked and cried as her palm slapped my unprotected bottom again and again and again. I had thought I'd be able to weather the spanking stoically, surely Brygitta wouldn't spank me too hard, we were friends after all, and certainly she wouldn't be able to spank as hard as her mom or aunt or grandma. Even so, I squeaked and squirmed, and when she was done, I rubbed my sore bottom and damp cheeks, pouting.

Her aunt said something, and I looked at her to see the woman grinning unabashedly.

Brygitta was standing now and she nudged me. "She says you have to spank me now. But... but you won't spank me too hard, will you? I... I'm sorry for..."

I sat without saying anything and waited, glaring through my tears. She began to tear up before she even laid over my lap, the big baby. I pulled her skirt up and her panties down, just as she'd done for me, but then I hesitated. Because, really, now that we were several moments past, I had liked the spanking, or at least the aftermath. My panties were still down in back and felt hot and... and good against the couch cushions.

But I also really wanted to spank her in return.

Her pale bottom turned pink with the very first spank. I watched in utter fascination as her bottom bounced under my palm, doing my best to memorize every moment, every squeal, every kick, every spank.

When it was done, I was breathing hard and was having a hard time thinking about anything else. Brygitta grabbed my hand and we hurried upstairs to the attic room and onto her top bunk. The little girls were already asleep.

The storm hurled wind and rain so that the room was filled with its sounds. The whole house trembled.

"I'm sorry," Brygitta said, and she kissed my cheek.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm not," I replied, and I kissed her back. She blushed. We huddled together under the blankets, hiding from the storm, warmed by our spankings, and, unashamedly, I rubbed her spanked bottom and she rubbed mine.


End file.
